


A Better Slice of Heaven

by mossadspydolphin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Finale Fix-It, no research no editing no giving a shit we write like the spn writers, wait why is that not a pre-existing tag already it's its own season by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28594884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossadspydolphin/pseuds/mossadspydolphin
Summary: 15x20 is bullshit and we all know it. Dean goes to his personal Heaven.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	A Better Slice of Heaven

When the world came back into focus, Dean wasn’t sure where he was. Heaven was the logical answer, but his Heaven probably wasn’t lying around in a bland room with fluorescent lights. Hell, it looked like a hospital room.  _ Was _ he in a hospital room? But why would he be, he was dead, he knew that for certain. He needed some goddamn answers.

“I need some goddamn answers,” he muttered, and as if on cue, the door opened.

Dean could have sworn that what happened next was in slow motion with dramatic music: The familiar figure walking toward him, his coat billowing authoritatively, and looking down at him with the beautiful, intense gaze that Dean knew so well and had never thought to see again.

“Hello, Dean,” said Dr. Sexy.

Dean stared.

Dr. Sexy waited expectantly.

“Uh. Doctor.”

Dr. Sexy nodded, pleased.

Dean looked around the room. “Is this--”

“Seattle Mercy Hospital. You were--”

“--Heaven?”

“Well, yes,” said Dr. Sexy, looking a little irritated at being cut off, especially since it had thrown off the musical cue. “Technically.”

“My personal Heaven is  _ Dr. Sexy, M.D. _ ?”

“Castiel thought you would be pleased,” said Dr. Sexy, as the viewpoint panned to the window, showing the sun shining through the clouds in a Significantly Symbolic Way. 

“Cas!” Dean sat upright (to dramatic music), the doctor’s overpowering sexiness suddenly a nonissue. “Cas is here?”

“Of course he is,” said Dr. Sexy. “This is your Heaven, after all. He designed it himself. I believe he's putting on a few finishing touches--you weren't expected so soon--but he should be along momentarily.”

Dean laughed with relief. “Of course he will. Of course. I knew Jack wouldn’t just leave him there to rot. Come on, Cas, leave the extras for later!”

Immediately following Dean's words, footsteps were heard in the hallway. The music swelled dramatically, and the door of Dean’s room opened in slow motion.

“Enough with the soap opera shit!” he snapped. “I want to see Cas already!”

Time resumed its normal pace (albeit with the ever-present dramatic music), and Castiel, angel of the Lord, walked (dramatically) into the room. But this was not just Cas as Dean remembered him; this was Cas as he ought to be: glowing with angelic grace, with cowboy boots on his feet and a doctor’s coat under his usual one.  _ Damn. _

“Cas,” Dean said hoarsely.

“Dean,” Cas said hoarsely.

The music swelled.

“Cas, what you said right before the Empty took you--”

"I know.” Cas looked away. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or--"

The music swelled and even Dr. Sexy, veteran of many such dramatic confessions, was rather impressed. 

"Cas, you idiot. You just...you surprised me. And then Billie didn't give me any time."

Cas looked up, hope spreading across his face as the music swelled some more. "You mean--"

The music was positively tumescent.

"Yeah. I love you, Cas. In English, even."

The camera pulled out dramatically, the better to frame the long-awaited kiss, and the music climaxed in a manner that would have impressed Tchaikovsky, or possibly Chuck Tingle.

After several minutes of intense lingual activity, Dean came back to himself enough to ask, “Is there always going to be this music? It’s kind of distracting.”

“Only at particularly dramatic moments.”

“This is a soap opera. It’s  _ only _ dramatic moments.”

"I can turn it off, if you like," Cas offered.

Dean considered. "Nah," he decided. "Life--or death, I guess--needs a soundtrack." He shook his head. I still can't believe my Heaven is a soap opera."

"Only this part of it," said Cas. "There's a great deal more you have yet to see."

"Well? What are we waiting for? Oh, one more thing." He nodded at Dr. Sexy. "Doctor," he intoned.

"Doctor," Dr. Sexy replied.

Dean grinned. "Amazing." He started to walk out.

“Dean," Dr. Sexy called.

Dean looked back at him.

“I know that this is Heaven, and technically you will never age or be ill. But it is advisable that a man of your age undergo a periodic prostate exam.” There was a sudden zoom in on his hands--those strong, dextrous, healing hands that were clearly meant for examining Dean Winchester’s prostate gland.

Dean looked back and forth between Dr. Sexy and Cas.

Cas shrugged. “I made every effort to ensure that your Heaven would be as enjoyable as possible.”

“And you’re hitting every mark. Sorry,” Dean told Dr. Sexy. “I definitely plan on, uh, watching my health, but for now I’ve got a few other things to sort out.” 

And, accompanied by the now-expected dramatic music, he and Cas left the room.

"I'm sorry," said Cas, "that I didn’t come back to you as soon as Jack rescued me from the Empty. I had your Heaven to work on, and I...well, I was nervous about the conversation we might have had to have." 

“I’d call you an oblivious idiot, but I think that title goes to me.”

“We can share it,” Cas offered. “So does this mean that we’re together now?”

Dean stared. “You had to ask? Idiot.”

The music gave them a little nudge.

Luckily, Seattle Mercy Hospital seemed to have a disproportionate number of make-out broom closets. 

* * *

After a thorough tour of the hospital’s broom closets, Dean and Cas re-emerged, ready to face eternity.

“I could kind of go for a snack,” said Dean. “The cafeteria should be good, right? It’s Heaven, after all.”

“I made certain that it would be to your liking,” said Cas. “Come with me.” He led Dean to a bank of elevators.

"I know time passes differently up here," said Dean as they descended. "How long's it been on Earth? How's Sam doing?"

“You have been dead for several months," Cas said, and Dean winced."Sam is coping. He takes care of Miracle, and hunts with Eileen. They recently worked an odd case involving a series of fires in party stores across the United States. Apparently the only damage was to the costume wigs.”

“That’s definitely weird.”

“It was never solved. The fires were attributed to an Act of God.” The elevator dinged. “Come. See what Jack hath wrought.”

Dean stepped out of the elevator and beheld a miracle: Though it appeared to be an ordinary hospital cafeteria, there was somehow room for table upon table of more pie than he had seen in his life.

“Holy shit.”

“Every pie flavor that has ever existed,” Cas bragged. “Even the ones I thought rather disgusting. I would recommend avoiding the peanut butter-sardine one, but there’s a delicious chocolate cream. And while you'll never be hungry, you'll always have room for more.”

Dean dipped a finger into the closest pie--some kind of berry, probably--and had a taste. "Cas. My God. I’m going to have to spend the rest of my afterlife just tasting these."

“You could do that,” said Cas. “But there’s an eternal Led Zeppelin concert not far from here. Your car is in the parking lot.”

Dean stared at him. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

"You will. I made sure of it. Now come."

Dean grabbed a pie for the road, took Cas' hand, and, accompanied by more dramatic music, walked with him in slow motion out into the rest of Heaven.

* * *

_ Many wigless years later... _

* * *

His children's faces faded from his vision, and Sam Winchester slipped peacefully into death. He had lived a full and happy life, and had few regrets. Soon, he knew, he would see Dean again. He wondered what their reunion would be like. What did one say to a beloved brother after more than fifty years? Sam’s soul arose to Heaven--literally. Apparently the stairway to Heaven was an elevator.

The elevator pinged, the doors opened, and Sam found himself in a scene he’d never wanted to revisit: A hospital corridor full of sexy, yet tormented medical staff. And lounging against the wall, Dean Winchester, with Cas by his side, demolishing a slice of pie. His eyes lit up when he saw his brother. “Sammy!”

Sam looked Dean up and down, from white coat to cowboy boots. He gestured at the swooning doctors around them. “Dude,” he said. “Really?”

  
  
  



End file.
